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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919135">Home on the Range</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatHaveWeDone/pseuds/WhatHaveWeDone'>WhatHaveWeDone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:53:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatHaveWeDone/pseuds/WhatHaveWeDone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As the name suggests, this takes place at the end of the episode Home on the Range. I've tried to keep it as close to the episode as possible, with just a small tweak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Home on the Range</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“First of all only family get to call her that and second - “ John had no time for a second thought as the Mechanic’s scorpion lurched from where it was threatening Brains directly towards him. It's limbs folded out by some cleverly concealed mechanism to form a gangly creature of nightmares. </p><p>It was lighting quick and solid and in a moment had reared onto it’s rear legs and pushed John hard back against the racking, one claw firmly around his throat. Two more legs cupped either side of his head, claustrophobically close. John could see out of the corner of his eye one was menacing Grandma and Brians – it's wickedly sharp tip lashing between them, but most of his attention was on the steel jaws snapping inches away from his face. Instinctively he tried to scrabble backwards but there was nowhere for him to go.  </p><p>“Let him go!” Grandma demanded, as stern as she ever was when catching a hand in the cookie jar. </p><p>“When I get what I want. I can see that your database has some information that would be helpful for me. I was disconnected before I could complete the decryption. If you wouldn’t mind completing that Brains, I will be on my way.” </p><p>“Don’t.” John instructed, trying to ignore the mass of metal that was so close he could smell the oil in it’s joints, see the fine welding holding it together.  </p><p>“Quiet. Brains and I were talking.” The Mechanic drawled, fearsome and smooth. </p><p>The metal around John’s neck tightened, the pincer tips firm enough that it was pressing against his skin, compressing the muscle underneath it. John felt his heart jackhammer as the machine slowly rose to the point his feet could no longer reach the ground, and it was carrying his full weight effortlessly. </p><p>The claws were tight, and John held himself up just enough to take some of the pressure off. He wasn’t as strong as Virgil but none of them shirked weight training, not when it could save lives and he could do pull ups like the rest of them.  </p><p>“He’s not going to give you anything, right Brains?” John managed, trying not to struggle against the force pressing into his throat. He knew that the more he struggled the more damage the machine could do and he could still breathe right now. Just. </p><p>“Errr.... right,” Brains hesitated, eyes flicking between John and the Mechanic. </p><p>“We’ll see about that.” </p><p>The scorpion raised it’s tail and it extended towards him, electricity sparking at the end. John swallowed, or tried to. </p><p>“Let’s show you some encouragement.” The device gave a high pitched whine as it powered up and jabbed into his ribs. </p><hr/><p>EOS was lurking in the security cameras and the server racks and the wiring. The system reset had not only removed the Mechanic’s connection but hers as well. She was working her way back in of course, and could do so much quicker than any human, but for now she was on the outside. </p><p>The security cameras showed John convulse as the electricity shocked his body, and how he sagged against the claw around his throat, limp. She still had access to his suit biometrics so was tracking in real time the fluctuations in his pulse, respiration rate, blood pressure and oxygen levels. The camera also picked up his sharp cry and struggling gasps. </p><p>John had been teaching her about human emotion and they had been making tentative steps together to see if she could simulate any. Now might be the time for a new one: fury. </p><hr/><p>Heart in his mouth Brains couldn’t take his eyes away from the horrific sight – John was still conscious, barely: one hand on the claw clenched around his throat, but he was no longer holding himself up. John's other hand waved faintly, trying to fend off the stinger from another attack. </p><p>Grandma Tracy had eyes only for the Mechanic – hard eyes, cold eyes, full of anger, but she was staying well away from the leg that continued to threaten her. </p><p>“Brains?” The Mechanic prompted. </p><p>“I’m sorry John.” Brains whispered. Sorry that John was hurting  - it looked like he could barely breath as it was, with cold hard metal tight around his throat. And sorry that he refused to give in. Whatever the Mechanic was after he would use it to hurt people, and International Rescue didn’t stand for that. </p><p>“Don’t think I’m not desperate enough to push harder,” the Mechanic threatened. “You don’t know as much as you think you do and I’m done asking.” The scorpion's stinger charged again, crackling, static and dread filled the air, John’s heels kicking uselessly against the wall.  </p><p>There was a sudden scream of motion and familiar beeps as his own robotic creation crashed into the room, sweeping the bug away, John ragdolling to the floor. </p><p>“MAX!” Brains was overjoyed to see his companion working again, who was laying into the threatening bot, sparks flying. </p><p>The system reboot must have completed for over the Mechanic’s shoulder the familiar ring of lights that was EOS’ preferred face glowed. Instead of dancing white it was threatening, warning red. The last time Brains had seen that she had been trying to tear Thunderbird Three apart.  </p><p>“EOS separate machine from the man.” Brains said. </p><p>“With pleasure.” EOS said, perfectly simulating grim satisfaction. A pulse travelled down the cables connecting the Mechanic to their equipment, and Brains could imagine the damage EOS was doing to the delicate circuitry.  </p><p>The Mechanic’s peripherals died, lifeless lumps of metal once more and MAX squealed in triumph over the carcass of his fallen opponent. The Mechanic didn’t hesitate to mourn his loss of technology though, turning on his heel and dashing from the room with long, confident strides.  </p><p>Grandma didn’t hesitate either, leaping to John’s side with a speed that was surprising. His friend was slumped against the wall, hands to his throat, face pale and eyes closed. Brains could already see livid bruising starting to bloom around his neck.  </p><p>From somewhere down the hallway came the roar of engines and – knowing that John was in the best possible hands – he raced to follow where the Mechanic had fled.  </p><p>“We'll meet again Brains, I’ll see to that.” he said, before entering an impressive looking craft. Brains stomach sank at the words – not so much a threat as a promise, for the last thing he wanted was another encounter with someone so brilliant but immoral.  </p><hr/><p>Sometime later they congregated in the small living room, dust from its hasty cleaning on their arrival that morning still spinning in the air. Scott sat with Kat Cavanaugh by the window: he was probably being his dashing self, and with a few friendly words from those earnest blue eyes and chiselled chin he would win her completely round. </p><p>John tried to curl up in the chair opposite and hide his eyes in the crook of his arm. They had a rudimentary med-bay downstairs but no way was anybody splitting up right now. Not now the Mechanic knew about this place and not while he was on the loose.  </p><p>Kat would be taken to a proper hospital for her broken leg but John had flat out refused. He knew perfectly well – and so did everyone else – that their medical facilities were more than adequate to give him a quick once over when they got home.  </p><p>“Headache?” Virgil said, stopping where John was trying to crawl into the upholstery.  </p><p>“Only when I stand,” John admitted. Getting upstairs had made him feel sick. “Or if it’s too bright.” The pupil reaction test had made him feel sick.  “Or if my heart beats,” he admitted with a groan, pulse drumming through his head.  </p><p>“Sip some more water.” Virgil stared at him until he complied – the glass he clutched in a trembling hand was not even half empty and that had taken him twenty minutes, because the muscles in his neck hurt too much every time he swallowed. “If you don’t finish that by the time we get you on Two, you’re getting a fluid IV.” </p><p>John weighed it up. He hated being pinned down with a needle in his arm for prolonged periods, but the ugly black bruising circling his neck from chin to shoulder was evidence of the deep tissue damage that flared up whenever he moved his head. He set the glass down on a nearby table.  </p><p>“I won’t even complain when you stick me.” He croaked out. </p><p>Virgil muttered something rude about stubbornness under his breath. “You sure about the hospital?” he said at a more normal level. </p><p>“Sure.” John nodded emphatically, instantly regretting it as his neck cramped and fireworks exploded behind his eyes. “We’ve managed worse than this before.” </p><p>“We’ve never managed someone being strangled and electrocuted at the same time before.” </p><p>John couldn’t argue with that, didn’t have the energy to even try and think of an argument for that. “I just want to go home,” he whispered. </p><p>“As soon as we can.” Virgil soothed, with a cool, steady hand on his forehead. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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